The First of April
by ReyjavikBondivik
Summary: The Nations are confronted with a rather chaotic meeting on April fool's day.


Everyone was reluctant to attend the meeting that was scheduled. It was so bad, that both Canada and America skipped in fear of what the other may have planned. But for those like France and England, the day was an excuse for mischief. Some of the more trickster-like nations had came prepared. Prussia? He had locked Germany in the basement and had planned to attend the meeting dressed as West. Sadly, Romano and Italy had beat him to the punch. He was locked in, Romano and Veneziano laughing outside; each Italian dressed in the brothers' clothes. Romano looked ridiculous in Prussia's oversized uniform. But even before the Italians arrived, and before Germany managed to free himself from the basement and Prussia got out out of the home chaos was brewing at the meeting.

None of the Nordics questioned when Sweden left early for the meeting. In fact, Norway didn't even know it was april fool's day until he woke up greeted by Denmark and a lukewarm cup of coffee. In return for the 'pleasant surprise' Norway had returned the favor by 'accidently' tripping and dumping his scalding coffee on the Dane. The day continued as normal, just...everyone was now in guard. Still, they didn't question it when they met up with Sweden at a cafe a few blocks from the meeting.

"As both Germany and America seem to be absent, I will be taking over the duties-" A loud, fart like sound filled the air as Estonia sat down. He seemed confused, but the Baltics at his side were giggling. "How immature." He sighed, tossing the whoopee cushion aside. He began to speak once more. Minutes passed undisturbed. The sound of glass breaking filled the room and Estonia ceased to speak. A few seats down, Russia was seething as a dark aura surrounded him. He was mumbling in very, very angry Russian. Belarus rose from her spot, drawing her now rubber knives. Eyes wearily searched for the culprit. They were either very brave, or very stupid. And with the lack of America, everyone was confused as to who would dare pull a prank of Belarus, let alone Russia. Through the silence, a muttered curse was heard.

"Apple juice. Someone put fuckin' apple juice in my booze." The other Nordics had to hold in their laughter as Denmark mused over his loss of beer.

"Be grateful, Dane. For this fool of April's devil rained my vodka with," Russia shuttered. "Water." Everyone suddenly checked their belongings. There was another muttered curse.

"Island!"

"My licorice is gone. And….they left these things." The shaken teen dropped a bag of red licorice onto the table. Though, it wasn't just any red licorice. They were Twizzlers. Cautiously, Finland and Norway took sips of their coffee. Both instantly recoiled, Finland whimpering angrily at the bitter taste of the tea. Denmark eyed Sweden suspiciously.

"Alright, bro, quit messing around." Sweden simply turned to Denmark. His glasses were missing. Sweden held up the spectacles that normally sat on the bridge of his nose. The lenses were scribbled with black ink.

"Wasn't me." Finland frowned.

"How'd that happen?"

"Left 'em at the table. Like this when I came back." Suspicion still flooded the Nordics eyes. Before anyone could speak up, the door slammed open. America had decided to show up after all.

"Who did this?" Across his forehead in sharpie were the words Made In China. Almost instantly, Finland recognized the handwriting as Sweden's. He had seen the neat script hundreds of times before. But that didn't mean he was going to tell of his new found knowledge. Let him have his fun. He rarely showed the playful side that was truly him. And if he felt comfortable enough pranking nations like America and Russia...then Finland couldn't see anything wrong with it. He seemed to be warming up to others more and more as centuries passes. America stormed up to the slightly calm Russia. "You did this!"

"While the joke is funny, I must apologize. It was not me." He didn't seem to believe Russia's claim. Across the table, China was struggling to contain his laughter. America pointed to his forehead once more.

"You did it then! In….in some unerasable ink!"

"Aiya, sorry America. It was not me." He seemed to grow more agitated. He turned an accusing eye to England. America shrieked, jumping back. Finland struggled to contain his laughter.

"What?" England quarried, more so confused by America's actions that normal. Alfred tried to stutter out a response, but settled for burying his face in his hands. England turned to France. Instantly the Frenchman was on the other side of the room.

"Que diable*? Your eyebrows are gone, Angleterre!" England's hands instantly went to feel where his eyebrows should be. His face turned red in both embarrassment and anger. Without a word, he stalked out of the room with his hands still covering his eyebrows. Once more, the room was filled with silence. It was clear the events of the day had put everybody on edge. Someone sighed, and across the table Hungary could be seen opening her laptop. She cursed furiously as glitter spilled out onto her lap, and onto Austria beside her. The Hungarian began to curse profusely, dusting glitter from her dress as she stood up and retrieved her frying pan. What she picked up was a small plastic toy frying pan. Beside Sweden, Finland finally broke and fell into an uncontrollable laughter.

After the chaotic meeting, the Nordics make their way back to the hotel in silence. Occasionally, Finland would smile to himself and shake his head. He couldn't see how people were so frightened of Sweden. Yes, he looked intimidating...but those that knew Tino knew he wasn't as 'cute' as people thought he was.

"How'd you manage it all?" Finland finally broke the silence. Sweden seemed surprised, unprepared for the question.

"How'd y' know it was me?" Sweden questioned.

"I recognized your handwriting on America's forehead." Berwald hummed.

"Seal'nd helped m' with that one. Also was th' one that thought of shavin' England's eyebrows. Convinced Latvia t' help with Belarus and Russia. Took care of Estonia, and Hungary m'self. And y' guys." Mischief still shone brightly in his turquoise eyes.

"You owe me booze, man!" Denmark proclaimed as he slung an arm around Berwald's shoulders. Sweden hummed in response as he playfully shoved Denmark into the street, grabbing him just before he could fall into traffic. Mathias stuck on his tongue.

"I think it right that you owe me a coffee, too. Considering I haven't had a proper cup all day." Norway added.

"And….you know, it'd be nice to have my licorice back." A thunder-like laugh escaped Berwald. The five continued to joke as they lazily made their way back to their hotel.

Que diable-what the hell


End file.
